Flight of the Butterfly
by Liebelit
Summary: "These are insects?" little Adora asked eagerly, her brilliant blue eyes wide in amazement, "Are they alive, Grampa Ambrose?". One-shot for the prompt Butterfly. Grandparents!Cain/Glitch.


Random drabble/fic thing for the prompt Butterfly

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"My father was a scientist like me, you know?" he told the curious child in his laboratory, gently taking the tiny hand that reached for the crystal box set on the table and pulling it back, "But instead of working with machines like I do, he liked to study insects."

"These are insects?" little Adora asked eagerly, her brilliant blue eyes wide in amazement, "Are they alive, Grampa Ambrose?"

"They're pupae," Ambrose said as he knelt down next to the little girl that looked just like D.G., "They're just sleeping inside there until they're ready to come out.

"See that one there?" he pointed to one of the more mature chrysalides, steadying Adora with his other hand as she went to sit on his knee, "That one's darker so it won't be long before a beautiful butterfly comes out. They're just butterflies that haven't finished going through metamorphosis yet."

"What does meta-metamo-sis—"

"Metamorphosis—"

"That!" Adora said keenly, looking on at the various chrysalides suspended by magic in their crystal cage, "What does it mean?"

"Well, it's when something changes into something else. Everything and everyone changes eventually; whether they are animal, vegetable, or mineral. Tin men turn into grumpy old men, like your Grandpa Wyatt, little princesses turn into queens like you will someday," he said, smiling as he tickled her and heard her laughter, "And those pupae in there will turn into butterflies soon enough."

"Do all animals do metamor-fo—change like that?" Adora asked as she hopped from Ambrose's knee and clutched the edge of the table, completely entranced with the pupae, allowing him to stand.

"Nope, just insects like the butterfly," he said as he rose to his feet and brushed his clothes with a sweep of his hand, "Neat, huh?"

"Very neat," a gruff voice that was most definitely not little Adora's said from behind him as a pair of strong arms wrapped around his waist, "But tin men turn into what, sweetheart?"

"Cain!" Ambrose turned in his husband's embrace to give the man a quick kiss before pulling back and fixing him with a sultry look as he raised an eyebrow, "Didn't see you back there, tin man. How long have you been listening in?"

"Oh, since about the first metamorphosis," Cain said nonchalantly, just as Adora noticed him and let out a shrill, "Grandpa Wyatt!"

"Hello, angel," He leaned down to catch her as she sprinted around Ambrose to launch at him, "How have you been?"

"Grampa Ambrose and I were waiting for the butterflies to hatch!" she said with a bright smiled as she leaned down in his firm grip to look back at the pupae from where she was sitting on the crook of his arm.

"Hmm, sounds a bit boring to be honest."

"Well, better that she's here learning a thing or two than out there with you getting dirty in the mud." Ambrose said haughtily from his side.

"But that's way more fun," Cain whined childishly, "What do you say, angel? Wanna go outside where it's more fun than this stuffy lab?"

"Oh no, Wyatt Cain," Ambrose said as he waved a finger at him and pulled an amused smile from Cain's lips, "It's pouring out there and—In fact, you're all wet! Put our grandchild down before you ruin her dress and get out of my laboratory!"

"You don't mean that, do you?" Cain said teasingly, leaning down to place Adora on the floor—the spirited girl being much more interested in the butterflies than on her grandparents' antics—but stepping closer to Ambrose.

"Why wouldn't I mean it?" Ambrose shot back, raising his chin slightly and giving him that look he gave him when Cain wasn't quite sure anymore if his grumpy attitude was in jest or for real. It was in times like these that Wyatt had to tread carefully around his words.

"Because you love me?" Cain said lamely, taking hold of his pouty lover's chin.

Before he had to take the brunt of Ambrose's feigned or real undoubtedly angry reaction however, a tiny awed gasped saved him from having to do so.

"Grampa Ambrose, one of the butterflies is coming out!" Adora squealed in excitement, her intense blue gaze glued to the darkest of the chrysalides that turned clear as it cracked and moved with the butterfly's effort to emerge. Both Cain and Ambrose came to stand at either side of her, watching as the chrysalis opened like a capsule and the butterfly started unfurling slowly.

"What color will it be?" Adora whispered, as if afraid to disturb the tiny creature in front of her,

"No way to tell, princess," Ambrose chuckled, "They're your aunt Azkadellia's butterflies, probably laced with magic." The elder princess had left them in Ambrose's lab earlier that day, contained by magic in a small clear box, and had asked if he could hold on to them for her until it stopped raining. Though the advisor was wondering if she had known he would be watching Adora today and leaving the butterflies here for her niece to see had been the princess's plan all along.

After a few silent moments, the mature butterfly parted fully from its translucent cocoon, its wings expanding completely to reveal a kaleidoscope of colors that shifted as the butterfly moved. For a second it seemed as if it was tangled in the web of magic that had been holding it up this whole time, desperately trying to get out, and Adora's breath hitched at the sight; her little fingers twitching to help the insect out.

"Give it a moment," Ambrose said as he placed a hand on her back, "it can do it on its own." Surely enough, it wasn't long before the butterfly flung its legs at the air one last time and unraveled the threads of magic that had kept it bound, taking a trail of blue and green magic light with it as it flew away.

"I want to work with insects when I grow up..." Adora watched after it, awestruck, until it left the room through the cracked door that Cain had forgotten to close behind him.

"Great, Wyatt," Ambrose frowned, "just great."

"Oops," he said, daring to speak for the first time in minutes, "Sorry about that, sweetheart."

"I'll get it!" Adora shouted happily as she pushed herself from the table and ran to the open door.

"Wait a minute—"

"I'll be fine, Grampa Ambrose! I promise I won't go to another floor and Aunt Azkadellia's room is at the end of the hall! Please..." she pleaded, her voice rising an octave as he drew out the word and ultimately defeated Ambrose with a blue-eyed puppy face.

"Oh alright, I suppose you could go tell your Aunt Azkadee that her butterflies are hatching." Ambrose said with a crooked smile and watched her dash out of the lab before turning around to face Cain, "Now where were we, Mr. Cain?"

"I hate it when you call me Mr. Cain," he hummed as he closed the space between him and Ambrose,

"You'd rather I called you tin man?"

"Anytime, sweetheart," Cain said, swooping the smaller man in his arms and giving him a proper kiss. Caught in their warm tangle of limbs and mouths, Ambrose forgot to complain about how wet Cain was; and neither of them quite noticed as the rest of the butterflies began to hatch and enveloped them in a whirlwind of colors and magic light.

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I know it's short and cracky, it was written at 3 am, but reviews are welcome ^_^


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